Reed nodded. "Well, that seems a logical reason. But why do you want me to come with you?"
Seb grinned, flashing bright white teeth. "Moral support? Besides, I thought you might like an introduction to Mistress Walton. You have rambled on about her research from the moment I told you I was rooming with her son."
Reed chewed on his lip. He would like to meet the Scholar he admired, but the circumstances seemed strange. Still, he would do anything for his brother and Seb knew this. The agreement went both ways, except Seb never asked questions when Reed needed his help. Reed chalked the curiosity up to his logical side; he always inquired into the reasons for everything. He nodded and Seb's smile widened. He had planned on Reed's agreement, but he didn't take his brother's loyalty for granted. He clapped a hand on Reed's shoulder.
"Thanks, brother."
Reed nodded and rearranged his tunic. The Scholars were given the option of wearing robes or tunics, although almost all first and second tier Scholars wore their robes as status symbols. Reed found them hot and cumbersome, particularly when he occupied the stuffy library for long shifts. He only wore the robes on special occasions. The tunic was wrinkled from sitting all day, but his tunics were always wrinkled. At least he hadn't worn one of his threadbare pairs of breeches today. He had the funds to buy new clothes, but he preferred to buy books.
"I assume you want to do this now?" Reed indicated the pack on Seb's back.
Seb nodded, bouncing up from the stone edge of the dormant fountain. Reed had never seen it spout water into the air; he was convinced the stone monstrosity was more for ornamentation than anything else and it managed that function without running water. The figure in the center of the fountain, perched on a carved piece of glittering quartz, was Master Fenton, the founder of the University. He was a distinguished looking gentleman with flowing robes and an equally flowing beard, even carved out of stone as they were. He held a book under one arm, and the other arm held a torch aloft. The light signaled the desire to seek out knowledge to free oneself from the darkness, the motto of the University.
"We best be off then," Reed said. His eyes floated up in his head. His brother interpreted the familiar gesture, attempting to smooth Reed's unruly hair. Reed had a habit of running his hand through it, along with his nervous habits of pinching his nose and chewing his lip. His mother called him fidgety. Reed's hair didn't calm itself regardless of what he did. It always seemed to be sticking straight up in some part or another, curls tangling together in other areas. He had grown the locks long once, hoping it would cooperate. To his horror and Seb's uproarious laughter, his long hair had sprung into tight spirals. He much preferred the unruliness to a mane of pretty dark curls.
"You think she will be home already?" Reed glanced at the position of the sun instead of the clock on the face of the University. He tested himself often, and most times he guessed the time by the sun within minutes to the time on the clock. It was nearing six o'clock, an hour past quitting time.
"Which one?"
"Well, I suppose both since your intent is twofold. I imagine you would be disappointed if you came to call and the sister wasn't there. How old is this girl anyway? Why is she still living at home? Hasn't she tested into a House? If she hasn't, she is too young for you."
They started walking at a slow pace towards Fenton Road. Mistress Walton occupied second tier so it would only take minutes to reach their living unit. He hoped Seb knew the exact housing number. He didn't relish the idea of traveling down corridors looking for the correct name.
"Well, that's an interesting puzzle. Rowan spoke often about his sister. I had the impression she might be unintelligent. After meeting her, I'm certain that's not the case."
"That answered neither of my questions," Reed replied dryly.
Seb chuckled. "Sorry, Brother. Let me start at the beginning since that is how you like your stories. When Rowan began to trust me, he told me stories of his sister. He has two but he rarely spoke of the youngest one. The older one has waited until the last possible moment to test. I believe her testing will occur next week, maybe two weeks away yet. On practice exams, she tests erratically. Sometimes, she will show a perfect aptitude in every House. Other times, she might be considered for a position as a laundress as she tests proficiently in nothing besides basic intelligence. When I spoke with her this morning, however briefly, I mentioned our research. She asked all the right questions. She is not unintelligent by any means and I would say she has aptitude in both Scholar and Planning Houses."
Reed frowned, his mind returning to the book in his pack. He had been reading about a past where certain individuals excelled at everything. He had seen few examples himself. Citizens sometimes tested highly in two categories, but one always won out over the other. Some students might manufacture a larger margin because of personal preference to whichever House they were placed. Both Seb and Reed had done this. The testers turned a blind eye. They didn't consider the manipulation cheating if the exams were taken honestly. Also, all children were monitored throughout primary and secondary school. It was impossible to completely trick the examiners. For someone to vacillate between perfect scores and no aptitude at all made little sense, however. He imagined there was some artifice involved, though he wouldn't make that decision until he'd met the girl. He was well acquainted with the dangers of making assumptions during research. He applied the same principle to his daily life.
"Perhaps she is waiting for her Soul Match to bolster one of her aptitudes?"
"For such a logical person, you place a lot of value on Soul Matches," Seb commented, but the words fell flat. They'd had the same discussion for years. Reed actually believed in Soul Matches, but not because he was a romantic at heart. He'd seen evidence of their validity firsthand.
"You know why," Reed replied. Seb nodded. Reed's parents, Seb's foster parents, were Soul Matches. Their connection had been facilitated by a missive from the Soul Tenders. They had been deeply in love for over twenty-five years. Not every instance of a Soul Match was so fortuitous. Still, Reed encountered several cases where Soul Matches complemented each other so well that being paired made logical sense.
"I would wager that Rowan's sister does not believe in Soul Matches." Seb roused Reed from another rambling thought trail. "She certainly wasn't pleased that he was chosen."
"Yes, I imagine she might harbor some negative feelings if she and her brother were close. That doesn't mean she doesn't believe in Soul Matches, though. What about you?" Reed glanced at his friend. His brother wasn't dwelling on the shock and sadness of losing Rowan because he walked with a spring in his step. But Seb always bounced back from tragedy easily and quickly. Maybe his adaptability stemmed from losing his parents at such a young age.
"What about me? I've always been ambivalent on the subject. The proof exists in our parents, but I am not a firm believer like you."
"But there is something about this girl that is different," Reed prodded. He wanted to enter this meeting with all the information he could garner. He handled every situation similarly.
"Most definitely. But I have no idea what that might be. She just calls to me."
"Many girls call to you," Reed answered with a smirk and dodged aside before Seb could land a punch on his arm. Reed had superior exam scores in Military House and agility tests for Information House in addition to high levels in Scholar House. Scholars were considered the least athletic House, besides the Merchants, but Seb and Reed had trained physically from a young age. They enjoyed running together and sparring with staffs and swords. Reed was also a fair shot with a bow and arrow, something Seb couldn't do to save his life. Reed found the physical exertion focused his mind.
"Indeed they do," Seb answered absently. At that moment, a particularly beautiful girl passed by them on her way to the University. Her blue robe displayed her curvy form flawlessly. Seb didn't even glance at the woman, and Reed's brows rose into his hairline. He examined his closest friend. There was definitely something about th
is Walton girl if Seb wasn't ogling everything in a skirt. Reed looked forward to meeting the woman who had so enchanted his brother. His anticipation mingled with equal dread.
They stood in front of second tier Scholar Housing, where Reed hoped to live soon. They hadn't had room in the men's dorms on the first floor so he'd reluctantly agreed to stay in his third tier unit. Every time his roommate forgot to wash his socks and his foot stench filled the air, he regretted the decision.
Seb took a rallying breath and they stepped into the stairwell. As they opened the door onto the fourth floor corridor, their ears were immediately accosted by the husky voice of a young woman swearing like a sailor.
Reed peeked around Seb, wondering why his friend had stopped. He also wanted to uncover who was cussing so indelicately, but proficiently. His eyes widened. A woman in breeches and a student's tunic was bent over in front of them, grabbing at rolling produce. Her shopping bag lay at her feet, the sides split. Her exquisitely rounded backside caught his attention and caused a reaction he rarely experienced without provocation. He considered himself a man of science, not bodily urges.
The young woman cursed again and straightened with an armful of spring apples and potatoes. She pursed her full lips, blowing tendrils of darkly burnished hair out of her face. Her eyes were a bright electric blue, similar to his own. They reminded him of the beautiful spring sky before the rains set in.
"You can stand there and stare at my ass a little longer, or you can help out." Recognizing Seb, she blushed. "Oh, it's you." She cocked her head, her arms still full. "Sebastian, right?"
Seb stammered a greeting, insisting she call him Seb. Reed's heart sank like a stone. This woman was his Soul Match. He knew the truth with unflinching clarity. His Da had recognized his mother the moment he'd laid eyes on her, and Reed had believed he'd have the same experience. Now he knew. But he couldn't break Seb's heart, not when his brother looked at her the same way.
Chapter Twelve
Kiarra
Hearing the door open behind me worsened my already irritated mood. Whoever entered the corridor was receiving an eyeful of my more than ample rear-end. Seeing Rowan's roommate, my irritation eased, and I couldn't stop the flush rising on my cheeks. Not only had I caught he and his rather cute companion staring at my ass after I'd flirted shamelessly with a certain golden haired Merchant, but I had also been trying out the new swear words I'd overheard in the marketplace. I had no clue what keelhaul meant, but the term likely hailed straight from Port town. Sailors knew the best cuss words.
Seb stuttered his name, a new sunburn masking his hot blush. His friend didn't blush, but he was staring at me with something akin to astonishment. I understood his surprise. It wasn't every day one encountered a woman in breeches swearing in the top floor hallway of second tier Scholar Housing. I noted his blue tunic, the same color as my mother's despite his young age, and I couldn't help but notice how well the cut emphasized his broad shoulders. Scholars weren't usually muscular. I wondered if he spent his days carrying books around. Perhaps up and down stairs, I amended, as my gaze traveled to his thick thighs and shapely calves. He was slightly taller than Seb, his eyes were bright blue rather than hazel, and he had the most adorably messy dark hair.
Something must have clicked in their brains at the same time because they both moved to gather up the groceries which had fallen from the bag. Mum had reminded me to mend the produce bag more than once so I only had myself to blame for the debacle. The Scholar's expression had shifted from amazement to something akin to horror, and I again cursed my impetuosity, although quietly this time. If he were an associate's of my Mum's, I had succeeded in thoroughly embarrassing her.
In my defense, however, it had been a long day. I hurried home after talking to Clay, eager to speak with my mother but she hadn't returned from work yet. Frustrated and unable to stay in the small apartment with Delia directing icy glares my way; I left to fetch the groceries from the market even though we only needed a couple things. The bag breaking just as I reached for our doorknob had been the last straw.
The boys gathered every wayward fruit and vegetable, and I fumbled my key out of my pocket. We didn't own any material possessions worth stealing, but Mum sometimes brought her research home. It wasn't unheard of for lower tier patrons to steal information that might advance their status.
I stepped into the small living area. Delia sat in the rocking chair with a mathematics textbook open in front of her. Her face was twisted, as if she had been drinking vinegar in my absence.
Mum occupied her usual chair, sipping tea, as was often her routine after work. I didn't hear thrashing from the back rooms so I assumed father was absent. Mum's eyes were glazed, lost in thought. I hesitated to bring the men into the apartment, but they were now carrying our groceries. Mum's face cheered instantly. I wasn't certain if the change was genuine, but it was too late to backtrack.
"Hey, Mum. I bought groceries. The bag broke and well, these guys helped..." I finished lamely. The men shuffled their feet and cleared their throats.
"Actually, Mistress Walton, I was just on my way to deliver the possessions Rowan left in our room when we encountered your daughter in the hall." Seb attempted an awkward bow but his arms were full of potatoes. One rolled away from him toward my sister. She stared at the vegetable like she feared it would explode in her face. Mum rose smoothly, still in her robes. Her glance towards me was a chastising one, likely because I hadn't mended the bag. Or maybe she had heard me swearing.
"I thank you for your help," she said gracefully. Her good manners prevented her from saying anything directly to me. I placed the torn produce bag on the kitchen table and took potatoes from Seb, ignoring the warm shock my skin elicited when my hands brushed his long fingers.
I approached the other male. He still stared at me with wide eyes as blue as the summer sky. His lashes were dark and long and would be the envy of any woman. He still hadn't said a word. He clutched a bunch of carrots to him like precious gems. I made a motion towards the vegetables. He looked down as if surprised at what he held. I imagined he was inside far more often than Seb, so his skin had to be naturally darker. His hair was curly which was why it misbehaved. The sight was endearing, even more so because I imagined the wildness drove him crazy. He smoothed it down repeatedly in what I gathered was a nervous gesture, though the action accomplished nothing. I wasn't bracing for another electric shock. He obviously wasn't either because he skipped backwards with a small sound of surprise. My skin tingled long after I stepped away.
"Sorry," I murmured. No doubt he was appalled at being touched by such an uncouth girl. Delia evidently had similar thoughts because she huffed rather dramatically, twitched her skirts, and swept from the room with another icicle directed my direction. Our bedroom door slammed.
I hid my irritation towards my sister by stooping to catch the errant potato. I had an uncharacteristic urge for a strong drink. Because of Father, I avoided the pubs, but the last two days had tested my limits. Would I become attracted to any more men? Would I just keep piling them upon each other until I had the whole city in my dreams? My imagination was running rampant, my body tingling like a storm was brewing. The last two days, the stress, the men - all of it conspired to turn my body into a live wire. I took a deep breath, attempting to appear surreptitious.
"You were Rowan's roommate?" Mum asked politely. I couldn't tell if she was helping me recover from my moment of distress or if she was just courteous, but it allowed me a moment to compose myself. "Please, have a seat." She beckoned to the couch. Both men sank into the cushions, inevitably rolling towards each other, which they attempted to prevent by adopting ramrod straight posture. I restrained a giggle, releasing some of my tension. The couch never failed to entertain me, at least.
"And who might you be?" Mum sat in her armchair after fetching two extra tea cups to join the teapot on the small tea table. I carried the potato to the kitchen, keeping an ear open.
Smoothing my hair back an
d taking another deep breath, I returned to the living room, seating myself in the rocking chair, the only available seat.
"Mistress Walton, I am Reed Porter." He executed a simple bow from the waist, elegant even though he was sitting on a sinking couch.
"He's my foster brother," Seb offered by way of explanation. "He's also a big fan of your research. He graciously agreed to accompany me."
I hid a grin behind my hand. Seb was being polite but he seemed nervous. He lacked some of the assuredness of this morning. Still, he looked more comfortable than his brother. Reed's eyes darted between my mother, me, and his friend. I was fairly certain he was regretting the offer to accompany Seb. His eyes finally settled on Mum, and I regretted their lack far more than I should.
"Yes, Mistress," Reed said. His voice was an even tenor, smooth like butter. I couldn't help but think how it would sound next to the bass and deeper voices of Clay, Mason, and Ian. Frustrated all over again, I pulled at the elastic hair tie at the end of my braid. It broke in two, snapping me on the finger. Squeaking in surprise and the quick pain, I stuck the offended digit in my mouth to smooth away the sting.
Mum cleared her throat, a decidedly un-Mum like sound. My eyes flew up. Both men stared at me, their eyes wide. I slid my finger from my mouth. My face probably resembled the crimson tapestry hanging behind me. I'm sure the red contrasted horribly with my blue student's tunic.
"You were saying?" Mum prodded. My eyes studied her. She was trying to hide an amused grin behind her teacup.
Reed stammered a bit, his eyes still focused on me. "Yes, I was saying..." he trailed off and looked at Seb, a lost look on his face. Seb floundered as well. I would have wondered whether Mum drugged their tea but they hadn't yet drunk any.
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